


stuck

by Lokichoki



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Getting Together, I love Reid, Idk why I thought of this, M/M, Pining, Season 3, Snowed In, Time Loop, Why Did I Write This?, im sorry, losely based on groundhog day, pretty much cannon-typical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokichoki/pseuds/Lokichoki
Summary: aaron hotchner is stuck.he tries everything to get out. everything. no matter what, he seems to be stuck in the same day and nobody else knows what he's going through. the days go on until he realizes that he can live a life without consequence. for the first time, a sense of freedom. he lives hundreds of lives each new day, until he decides that he's tired of Punxsutawney, pa. he wants out. he wants to be back to work with the bau, not stuck lying in wait.spencer reid ends up being his ticket out.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 20
Kudos: 63





	1. prologus

**Author's Note:**

> im starting another heid story, don't worry tho, im gonna finish atomic before this one's over. check it out if you want. everything here is basically cannon with plot, it'll take place during season 3 a few episodes after hardwick. you don't need to know much about the plot of the movie this is based on, but here's a link to the plot summary - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Groundhog_Day_%28film%29
> 
> enjoy <3

“These,” JJ started, getting the attention of the roundtable. “Are the Petersons. The fourth family murdered in their homes just this week. All shot at point-blank and staged at the dinner table. Punxsutawney P.D. wants this case under wraps since Groundhog Day’s coming up soon, but a deputy had a theory that the murders were organized, so here we are,” She said, placing down the case files in front of every agent. 

“The scene looks so disorganized, almost like a break-in,” Rossi stated, narrowing his eyes at the gruesome crime scene photo of the disheveled dinner table on the screen. 

“But, the staging of the bodies indicate a level of meticulousness,” Prentiss finished, pointing at the monitor. 

“Garcia, does the police report note any signs of forced entry?” Hotch added, flipping through his file. 

“Yes, actually, sir,” she began typing away on her laptop, the screen of the monitor changing in the result. They looked at the image of four doors, all seemingly batted in. 

“Emily’s right. We could be looking at an unsub who dissociates during the murders, maybe getting high, then staging the bodies and running off,”

“Either way, he won’t stop until we catch him. Let’s go pay Punxsutawney Phil a visit,” Hotch said, interrupting Reid’s thought. 

“I’ll call for the jet,” JJ decided, flipping her phone open and exiting the room.

_________

The town was a Pennsylvanian suburb, there was nothing remarkable about it. Aaron had grown up in a suburb himself, but the school had been elite, massive, flowing with personality. He had developed a law about cities like this; small towns, tiny minds. The second they landed, they were greeted by sheriffs in drop hats and khakis, their mustaches bigger than Dave’s. All the men bore a pin of a groundhog on their shirt pockets proudly, making the supervisor hold back a scoff from the corniness of it all. 

“We have to double up. They’re all full beds this time, you’re welcome,” JJ said from the back of the crowded SUV, tapping at her phone. 

“Dibs on JJ,” Emily said, smiling unconsciously.

“Derek,” Rossi decided, waving his hand.

“I’m with Hotch then, I guess,” Reid muttered, not looking up from his book. 

They arrived right at the small, overcrowded police department office, setting down their bags atop of each other in a messy pile. Spencer quickly requested the board to organize his thoughts with, pinning photos from his satchel up upon its arrival. It had taken three days of interviewing and sifting through suspect lists and gruesome crime scenes, but they had finally found a lead on a retired high school teacher diagnosed with manic depression. Hotch had made the split-second decision to rush the man’s house, getting a confession nearly immediately upon his arrest. 

He was booked at the station, Morgan sighing in relief at his cooperation during interrogation. The man was, to put it simply, a nut. He had been high out of his mind half the time on a cocktail of hard drugs, the effects of it nearly snapping his brain in two. Rossi and Hotch shook the hands of the sheriffs while the rest of the team had been packing up on the other side of the room, Reid raving about the facts of Groundhog Day from the corner. “That was the traffic department. Road’s are pretty much shut down out of town until the third.” A deputy interrupted, causing the unit chief to groan in frustration. JJ walked up to the group, arms folded across her chest. 

“The owner of the B&B called, she’s willing to give us the extra night for free,” she sighed, eyes expectant.

“I’ll call Strauss,” Rossi muttered, his phone snapping open. The profilers walked over to the rest of their group, striding over to the coat rack exhaustively. 

“I can get a movie on Pay Per View if anyone wants to join,” Prentiss consoled, shivering in the cold.

“There’s a liquor store next to a pizza place on the corner. I can get the food and the booze,” Rossi added, reaching out for his wallet. 

“Now that sounds like a party,” Morgan joked, elbowing Emily. The group had all agreed on the plan, hurrying inside of the shop to make their selection. 

The walk back to the bed and breakfast was short, the pouring snow making it seem much longer than it should’ve been. “Not a fan of blizzards?” Spencer joked, nudging himself into his superior’s arm carefreely. 

“Not in particular, no,” He smiled, watching the younger man spin around, sticking out his tongue with a smile like a toddler. 

“I like the cold, it makes me feel,” he whispered, pulling off his scarf.

“Okay, Plato,” Rossi jived with a chuckle. Hotch found himself smiling more at the reaction, his face finally flushing out of embarrassment. 

“Unnecessary, Dave,” He shot back, mouth still wide. They all laughed, wiping their shoes down on the doormat before entering. The place they had been staying had a character that only a Western Pennsylvanian B&B could possess, crocheted pillows and quirky paintings boasted over the wallpapered hallways. They made their way down the narrow room, every profiler silently agreeing on changing into pajamas before regrouping with Emily and JJ. 

The two had become incredibly red at the heat, Spencer’s pale skin darkening as he undressed. His figure was thin and defined, in a way pretty. Hotch’s expression relaxed from his stern shield as he changed into sweatpants and a flannel himself, seeing his employee in a sweater that only he could possibly wear. He and his friend finished readying themselves, locking the door behind them before striding down the hall. 

_______

The piercing sound of the ringing of the hotel phone pierced through Aaron’s hungover brain, exiting his ears with a painful buzz. He groaned, rolling over into the bed to pick up the receiver. “Hotchner,” he muttered, voice stoic and cool. 

“I have a 7 AM wake up call for Dr. Reid. Happy Groundhog Day!” the cheerful voice sang, the tone making his head throb even worse. 

“Thanks,” he whispered, moving the phone down back onto the receiver. He rolled over to the other bed, watching the man who faced him breath tiredly. He felt it rude to wake him, instead silently squirming out of his bed to his jacket, searching for a pack of painkillers. He walked out of the bathroom minutes later, the radio alarm sounding suddenly. Reid yelped, falling off the mattress. A jingle played loudly, announcing that it was groundhog day to the recipients. The sounds of annoying announcers passing corny jokes around caused Aaron to moan in frustration,  _ it’s cold enough, you lose up to 80% of your body heat through your head. _ Reid laughed at that from the other side of the room, getting up from his awkward position on the carpet. 

“The army actually corrected that, it’s around 40 now,” he didn’t respond, instead of popping 5 pills into his mouth, washing it down with a bottle of water. The man and woman from the fuzzy radio raved about groundhog day for minutes, Reid crumbling at the coldness he had received from his friend. “Happy Groundhog Day,” he muttered, still not looking up.

“Tylenol?” he said finally, offering him a pill. He extended his hand in acceptance, picking up the bottle soon after. 

“Rossi said yesterday that he wanted us all to have a normal day, see Phil, get some drinks. We have nothing better to do here,”

“What’s not to like about  _ here _ ?” Aaron scoffed in response, lacing up his Timberlands.

“I’m sorry?”

“Never mind,” He decided, convincing himself that the thought of Aaron Hotchner having a  _ normal day  _ in a  _ small town _ might actually not do any harm. He held the door for his subordinate a moment later, the two rushing down the stairs for breakfast with the others. 


	2. primo capitulo

Spencer watched Hotch poke at his groundhog shaped pancakes from across the booth of the crowded diner. The sound of plates and cups clattering filled the large hall, conversations full of hopeful theories of an early Spring. “Small town, tiny minds,” he grumbled, chewing on the greasy bacon. 

“C’mon man,” Morgan joked from across the table. “You don’t have to be so cynical all the time. Think of this as a day off,”

_ I’d rather have my day off in bed with Haley _ , he thought, scoffing. “Right,” he said, deciding on taking the high route rather than breaking his agent’s jaw in a restaurant. They had slowed through the meal, taking their time to plan out the day. Hotch ignored the conversation taking place in front of him, instead cynically flipping through a newspaper that had rested on a stand by the door. 

He had grown accustomed to his life as an almost-politician in the DC area, a feared alpha male at work, a recent divorcee in demand. This was a town that he’d pray to never see again, full of hicks and idiots, corny jokes, and dumb icebreakers. Hotch was thanked for covering the bill for the group, folding the leather envelope, and placing it onto the chrome table before swinging the door open and returning into the chill. The loud sound of a peppy tune filled the streets and road, a marching band stringing up an obnoxious melody. 

Prentiss was shouting something to him giddily, ushering for him to join the group, who were already walking down the road swiftly. He kicked the packed snow, repressing any irrational anger that he had harbored for the town. The group had made it in time to watch the opening ceremony for the holiday, the mayor cheerfully shouting into the microphone about the history of the holiday, sure that whatever Reid could’ve said would be better than the garbage he was listening to. 

A groundhog crawled out of a cage tiredly, the screams of worship from the crowd piercing. The rodent scratched through onto a log naturally, standing up slowly. The plump man picked him up, putting the animal to his ear happily. “Punxsutawney Phil has just told me in Groundhogese that he did indeed see his shadow, six more weeks of winter!” The crowd let out sounds of disappointment at the news before cheering energetically at the creature, praising him like a god. 

“Groundhoguese,” Spencer heard Aaron mutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Hotch, if you don’t agree with what they’re saying, you can go back to the motel. I won’t be mad, and I’m sure that nobody else would be, either.” he waved his hand in protest, silently standing his ground. 

  
“It’s fine, a normal day might do me some good, Reid,” he smiled at the effort, offering a hand in response. 

“That’s better. JJ said the principal of the local school invited us to their pep rally, that’s as normal as it gets.” A team of FBI agents at a high school pep rally on Groundhog Day, you see that every day, naturally. He suppressed a laugh remembering that the comment had come from Reid, the dictionary antonym of  _ normal _ . 

“Talk to me about normal when you get a girlfriend,” he joked, feet dragging behind the lighter-haired man. It was a funny thought, Spencer Reid intimate in any way with anyone. There was something utterly asexual about him like he really was an android incapable of falling in love. It was a rude and intrusive thought, he had felt incredible guilt about his past decisions to let the man fend for himself when he was clearly struggling with drugs, guilty even before his rescue about his lack of emotional mentoring. He was supposed to be a friend, not a man who had his office door closed and locked half a level up from the desks of the bullpen, untouchable. 

“Sorry, that was intrusive of me,” he said after a moment, watching his face falter for a moment. He smiled softly, shrugging it off. “Yes, I’ll go,” 

“Good. Thank you,” he decided, voice soft and smooth. 

The gym was warm and loud, crowded, and filled to the brim with energy. Cheerleaders bounced around with horrid brown pom-poms, the team screaming words of encouragement out to the girls during their routine. The rally ended after two grueling hours, Spencer and JJ grabbing their boss by each hand to drag him to a carnival. In February. 

“I’m not hearing this,” he groaned, his cold, wet boots groggily moving past the snowy ground. 

“You don’t have to hear anything, just live a little, Hotch,” the blonde jokes, rolling her eyes. The walk to the lot that the fair was on was long, the silence filled by Reid spitting out facts on Pennsylvania on cue, it was wrong to call him a supercomputer, but sometimes Aaron couldn’t help himself. The sun was setting and they were still at the crowded venue, stomachs full of trashy carnival food, his stomach aching from the oils in the snacks. Spencer approached him with a smile and mouth full of cotton candy when his phone rang. 

“Hi, Haley,” he said loudly, indicating that his ex-wife was on the line to the man in front of him. 

_ “Aaron, your son was just asking for you. I didn’t want to put you on the line, but Jess said I should,”  _

“You were always so considerate,” he jabbed, tone bitter. 

_ “I’m putting you on speaker now,”  _ she said, the sounds of his toddler babbling filling the audio. 

“Hi, Jack-Jack. How are you, buddy?” Spencer smiled, picking off a bit of the light treat from the cone and offering it to the other man, accepting it with a small smile. 

_ “Hi, daddy. I can count to 20 now!”  _ He laughed at the sentiment, beaming with pride. 

“He can count to 20,” he told Reid, who smiled thoughtfully. 

“Tell him that his uncle says hello,”

“I’m proud of you, kid. You’re very smart,”

_ “Not as smart as uncle ‘Pencer! He’s a math whiz, remember?” _

“He is a math whiz, you’re so right,” he softened, smiling at the man the Hotchner men were talking about, who was now flushing. “Speaking of Uncle Spencer, we’re at a carnival right now. We just had some cotton candy, he says hi,”

_ “What? Lucky,” _ he chuckled lowly, his son being the only thing in this town that could make him laugh.  _ “Mommy wants the phone now, tell him I say hi, too! Bye, daddy!”  _

“Sweet dreams, bud,” he whispered, hearing Haley take the phone with a few words.

_ “You’re at a carnival, huh?”  _ she scoffed, her voice stinging like poison.

“Yes, I am. Who I’m with is none of your business,” he shot back, not liking what her comment was insinuating. Reid was a subordinate, indefinitely in love with JJ, and certainly not his type. 

_ “Bye, Aaron,”  _ the phone hung up swiftly, his expression blank. He groaned, accepting another handful of cotton candy that was shoved quickly into his face. 

“We have to all go now, Emily told me to come and get you. The town council is hosting a dinner that they invited the team too,”

“Great, another event,” he mumbled, kicking the gravel. He looked up at the other man, his curly hair swirling into his face, studying him. Reid was undoubtedly attractive, his hair being one of his best features. “Sorry, not a fan of small towns,” his voice was soft compared to the younger man’s.

“You learn to enjoy things more when you’re with your friends, I guess,” the tone was sympathetic and cheerful, his slim figure leaning into his toned one. 

The dinner was entirely gauche, the plastic silverware designed to look expensive, and the napkin that rested on his lap utterly cheap. The food was mediocre, tasteless, and almost stale. He remembered what Spencer said with a grain of salt, guilt in the back of his mind yelling at his negative thoughts of the townsfolk. “The meal was lovely, thank you, Mayor McKinley,” 

“Of course! We’re so happy that you were able to stay for another night, even under unfortunate circumstances,”

“Thank you for that, we’re all happy to be here,” Rossi smiled politely, dabbing the cheap napkin onto his lips. Derek was thanking the table, shaking hands, and smiling. 

“I almost forgot! We have a party at the golf club every year, you’re all welcome there. There’s a lot more energy there,” the team whispered in agreement on their presence, smiling in excitement. He’d rather be dead than caught at another Groundhog Day event again. 

“I’m going to bed, have fun,” he had announced once they were back out in the chilled air, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trench. Prentiss groaned, insisting on him joining the group, causing him to snap and decline. He spun around on his heel, making the trudge back to the B&B, the shouts of disapproval from his team fading with distance. He set down his wool coat on the back of the door, walking into the bathroom to get changed. Aaron laughed when he saw that neither bed was made, even the cheapest motels they had been to had a turndown service. He grumbled words of disapproval, setting Reid’s sheets in place before his own, finally laying down in his bed. 

It was hours before his eyes shut, his subordinate still not back in their room. He stared at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head. He scowled, statistically, he’d never have to wake up in the morning in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania ever again. He’d never eat rodent-shaped pancakes again, and he’d be back to a shitty apartment in D.C, reflecting on what might have been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more comments for another chapter :) hope you guys like !


	3. dies duos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is super long, sorry. the next few are gonna be a bit shorter and curt instead. i hope yall like it :)

The phone started buzzing in a high-pitched tone. 

Hotch rolled over in the bed, eyes closed, hand lazily moving around to find the receiver. He brought the block up to his ear, sighing. “Hotchner,” he groaned, it was far too early. 

“I have a 7 AM wake up call for Dr. Reid. Happy Groundhog Day!” said a woman on the other line, her tone giddy like yesterday. He quickly slammed the phone shut, the radio playing a tune. 

“That’s right, Woodchuck-Chuckers! It’s Groundhog Day!” a man screamed after a song played.  _ Christ, how many days is this holiday? _

He looked over at Reid, asleep in the same position as yesterday. Aaron got up out of bed, walking over to the window, still packed with snow and ice. His gaze averted when the alarm clock went off, causing the other man to scream in surprise and fall off of the bed, in the same fashion as the morning prior. He squinted at this, debating on joking about the man’s clumsiness. Y _ ou lose up to 80% of your body heat through your head. _ Reid laughed, the same as yesterday, before finally speaking. 

“The army actually corrected that, it’s around 40 now,” the comment made him think that he was having a stroke, his tone the same as before.

“You look like you’re hungover. I have some Tylenol in my bag,” he said slowly, his tone cautious. Spencer nodded in response, thanking him groggily. 

“Happy Groundhog Day, by the way,” he chirped, his smile lopsided. Aaron glared in response, narrowing his eyes. Spencer flinched in response, a bit taken aback at the coldness from his friend. “Anyway, Rossi said yesterday that he wanted us all to have a normal day, see Phil, get some drinks. We have nothing better to do here,”

“Didn’t we- I think I’ll just stay here, sorry,” Spencer rushed to his feet, waving his arm out. 

“I can stay with you! We haven’t had a day alone since Connecticut,” his voice was small, almost desperate. Hotch frowned, pitied to say no to him. 

“I’m too hungover. I’ll stay in for a few hours, at least,”

“But you had 4 shots,” he started, quickly getting cut off. 

“Spencer.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, throwing on a sweater over his dress shirt. He was out the door in minutes, quickly mumbling a  _ goodbye _ apologetically before leaving. Aaron sighed, jumping back into the lumpy bed. He flicked on the remote by the bedside table,  _ Groundhog Day Coverage Live! _ being the first program on the television. He squinted, shaking it off. 

“Idiots. They’re playing yesterday’s tape,” he scoffed, watching the coverage from the comfort of his knitted sheets. He found it entirely odd for his friend to have said the exact thing as yesterday at the exact time, rubbing it off and deciding to pick up a book that was on Spencer’s table. 

He closed the dusty book at the sound of keys jamming into the doorknob, shifting on the mattress slightly. Reid peeped in from the crook of the opening, smiling politely. “I hope you’re feeling better. Emily’s making me drag you to a carnival with the team. We just went to a pep rally, it was corny, but fun,” he gasped at the comment, sure that they had done the exact thing yesterday. He deduced that he was just dreaming, nodding softly and getting out of bed, following Spencer back out the door when he looked decent. 

The carnival looked the same as yesterday, men walking around on stilts and clowns giddily forming balloon animals. Aaron tagged behind with Dave the first hour, the latter being too old and the unit chief being too tired to possibly go on any rides. They watched JJ and Spencer traipse around hand in hand, laughing and getting their faces painted. Derek and Emily were on the other side of their line of sight, aggressively shooting over at targets with water guns, grinning. They had regrouped on the other side of the road, Prentiss finally yanking Reid away and away from view, grinning wickedly. The two subordinates shrugged, striding over to a row of claw machines. 

“This is fun,” Rossi grinned, biting into a fried oreo. He offered his friend one silently, Hotch quickly took it and munched greedily. The carnival may have been mediocre, but the sweets were pretty damn good. 

“Fun to watch, definitely,” he retorted, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The Italian was having a one-sided conversation with the raven-haired man, whose eyes were taken as soon as he had seen Emily and Spencer return, the young profiler a blushing mess. “Prentiss and Reid?” he said dubiously, a pang of bitterness in his tone,” Rossi looked up in response, eyes darting across the road with confusion. He started laughing hysterically in response, raising his suspicion further. “Am I missing something, David?” the supervisor grumbled, slurping on his watered-down coke. 

“You’re my friend, so I’ll tell you this in confidence since you were with Haley when it happened,” He said between laughs, calming down slowly. “Emily and Morgan had a  _ thing _ according to Reid, but she’s practically in love with JJ. Another thing that should’ve given it away, she’s been sleeping with the girl from CAC down the hall for nearly a year. You can be a smart guy on most days. A smart guy, but really clueless,” He stared blankly, blinking twice. 

“I’m the worst profiler to ever walk into the Bureau,” his tone was teasing, his thoughts self-deprecating. He watched Spencer speak to Emily in a panicked tone, eyes darting over to Hotch and Rossi several times. She laughed, pushing him closer to the pair of agents, whispering something in his ear. 

“Em, please. I am begging you. If you get off of me now, I won’t tell Strauss about Anastasia,”

“As if I care,” she scoffed, pushing him closer to his crush. 

“This isn’t high school. Actions have real consequences. Yours will be a bullet if you don’t let me go,” he hissed, smiling nervously. 

“Too late, she murmured, pushing him right into the two men before running off. Spencer stood in front of the two senior profilers, two sticks of cotton candy clenched tightly to his chest. “Prentiss told me that I shouldn’t always be so scared to talk to you, so I was wondering if you’d want to walk around with me. Prove her wrong,” he asked, heart pounding. Aaron was genuinely losing his mind, the kid was afraid of him, still. 

“That’s fine, Reid. Is that for me?” he asked, frankly wishing that it was. He hummed in response, shoving the treat to his chest. Rossi had ushered for the two of them to go ahead, jogging over to catch up with the woman who’d just left with a smile. They set off in the opposite direction, weaving in and out of trailers filled with corny attractions. Hotch eased a bit, dragging his subordinate into a haunted house with a grin. “We’re field agents. If you can’t handle a haunted house, I’m going to fire you. And besides, I’ll be right by your side the whole time, princess,” he joked, the small corner of the small town seeming a lot bigger because of the man with him. 

“You sound like air supply,” he laughed, finally giving in to the request. The first room was dark, a few people already inside waiting for the ride to start. A man in a mask appeared from the blackness of the space, causing Hotch to jump back into the smaller man in surprise. “Are you alright,  _ princess? _ ” Spencer mocked boldly, causing the older man to growl in false-annoyance. “Texas-Chainsaw Massacre. Ed Gein was the real unsub that filmmakers based the character after. He was charged with just killing his brother, but he’s rumored to be a serial chainsaw-killer.”

“ ‘I tend to work best under intense terror’,” Aaron recalled sarcastically, causing his subordinate to flush with embarrassment. “You’re fine, Spencer. I like your company,” he admitted to his friend with a smile, acknowledging the eyes in front of tiny minds watching them. 

They made their way through the rooms, reaching a cold, metal room that reeked of a rotting  _ something _ . Spencer looked down, his foot squishing into something, causing his body to lean into his supervisor’s for support, a hand warily on his holster. The intimate contact of a figure pressed into him made him flush, he had been incredibly starved of contact with  _ anyone, _ even months before Haley had ever left him. In a voluntary response, Aaron’s large hand wrapped onto the side of the hip of the man in front of him protectively, drawing the gun that lay behind his suit. His heart fluttered at Reid’s reaction, deducing that he was probably taking advantage of the body in front of him and enjoying the contact a bit too much to be friendly, gravitating away gently. 

Spencer yelped at the sound of the pounding of the metal door, twitching in surprise. “The bureau’s most elite asset- the BAU field team. SSA Aaron Hotchner, former federal prosecutor and SWAT commander, and Dr. Spencer Reid, a boy genius and geographical profiler. The brains and the brawn. Decorated agents, they are,” he shouted sarcastically, smiling through his fear. The pulsing stopped for a moment until there was a sudden onslaught of clanging from the door, a man gouged in blood wielding an ax charging in. 

They both involuntarily whipped their Glocks out, training them onto the figure that was swiftly approaching. The man in front of them paused, his arms charging up in surrender. “Woah, man. I just work here,” Aaron relaxed, his finger still on the trigger. 

“Aaron,”

“Spencer,”

“I dragged you into a haunted house in Pennsylvania.”

“You did,”

“He’s not an unsub,”

“No, he is not.”

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Not a word about this,” the two looked at the person in front of them stunned, flushed with utter embarrassment. Spencer’s long, curly hair was sprawled across his face, slightly covering his features and  _ God,  _ it was attractive. He watched his lanky fingers reach into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and a twenty-dollar bill from it. 

“We’re so sorry. Take this, and let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” he said bluntly, the man quickly taking the money and walking out of the room, telling them that they should probably run like they were supposed to. The rest of the attraction went on awkwardly, Spencer completely mortified at the fact that he almost shot a civilian in the chest. “Do you want your gun back?” he muttered as they walked outside, the cold air finally seeming refreshing.

“It’s yours, and there’s no need to take it away, Spencer,” Hotch cooed, jogging down the steps. Emily stood before them, arms crossed with a smirk. The rest of the team was behind them, staring in amazement. 

“Looks like you two had fun, didn’t you,  _ Spencer _ ?” she snorted, causing Reid to hit her with a stuffed animal he’d won. 

“Garcia asked to take Derek on a pony ride for her and take pictures, so we were about to head to the petting zoo. You coming?” JJ asked, already striding away. They both nodded, walking as far away from the attraction as possible. Hotch stood behind with Emily, his brow cocked at her the entire time as she watched the others in amusement. 

“Anastasia?” he joked with a crooked smile. She shot her gaze back to him, glaring intensely. 

“Spencer?” she raised an eyebrow. 

“Is my subordinate. As are you,” he said with an icy stare. She snorted, rolling her eyes. 

“You think he’s hot, though,” 

“I think that he’s a good agent,”

“You can think someone’s a good agent but still want them underneath you,” Hotch nearly choked at the thought, his eyes popping out of his sockets. 

“I should fire you,”

“You should deny it if it isn’t true,” she patted his shoulder, returning to the others. Spencer was teaching a coin trick to a few toddlers waiting in line with a crooked smile, each and everyone watching dreamily as he pulled a penny out from behind a little girl’s ear. He looked up to see him staring down at him, waving goodbye, and walking over to his boss. 

“Magic,” he whispered, swiftly turning to be by his side. 

“I noticed,” he smiled, staring down at his lips for a moment. There was something about Reid that tempted Aaron to his core, though he could likely attribute it to have not been in bed with anyone for over a year. He refused to be aroused by his subordinate, let alone imagine sleeping with one. He compartmentalized his lust quickly, turning his mind back to the friendly boss he was meant to be. “You want kids?” he asked politely, smiling. Spencer drew back a bit at the sudden change of mood, any upset was probably formulated by the older man mentally. 

“With the right person, yeah. I guess so,”

“You mean like JJ?” he asked, a hint of encouragement in his tone. 

“She’s nice, so someone like her, maybe. Sure.” Gideon had sent the two of them off on a date, Morgan teasing him about the night for weeks after it happened. The team hadn’t heard anything more about the pair after that, dropping any thoughts or questions eventually. The topic was utterly random, a heavy awkwardness filling the air. He watched townspeople pass by, screaming out stupid remarks about the  _ lovely event _ that they were all at. Lovely events are known to smell like fucking manure, of course. His phone buzzed from his front pocket, quickly picking it up when he had seen it was his ex-wife. 

“Hey,” he said, shouting over the loud music of the ride behind him. He leaned back into the food cart that Reid was ordering from, relaxing into the support. 

_ “Aaron, your son was just asking for you. I didn’t want to put you on the line, but Jess said I should,”  _ she said the same words and tone as yesterday. He furrowed his brows, thinking for a bit that his small brain-fart earlier was just temporary. 

“Put him on,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose aggressively. He heard his son shout his hello into the microphone, wincing at the noise. “Hey, kiddo!” his tone was tired, the deja vu making his head spin. Spencer had a funnel cake in his hands this time, his metabolism being entirely too fast to possibly care about what he put in his mouth. 

_ “Hi, daddy, I can count to 20 now!”  _ he said, the same information as yesterday. He stumbled over at the revelation, Reid clumsily catching him and holding him close before he could fall. 

“That’s awesome, buddy. Did you do anything else today with Aunt Jess and Mommy?” He had his arm wrapped around Reid’s waist involuntarily now, it had just seemed natural. 

_ “I painted a dinosaur! Aunt Jess says that she’ll show you soon.” _

“What? I can’t wait.” he smiled, softening. 

_ “What did you do today?”  _ he lisped. Aaron looked down at the boy who’d buried his head into his chest now, refusing to let go. 

“Your Uncle Spencer and I went to a haunted house today. He went out with the team to see the groundhog and I stayed back and watched Batman. We’re at a carnival now, he just bought some funnel cake.” Jack gasped on the line, laughing giddily. 

_ “That’s so cool! I love cake,” _ Spencer looked up when he felt the man in front of him chuckle lowly, smiling softly. 

“I love cake, too.”

_ “Daddy? I have a question” _

“Ask away,”

_ “Is Uncle ‘Pence your best friend like I am with Kai, or is he your friend like how mommy is with Uncle Ian? I really hope that he isn’t your friend like Uncle Ian because sometimes I used to hear them yelling at each other upstairs, and mommy would come down sometimes with bruises and she looked really tired. It only happened when you were being a superhero, though, which is weird. And they wouldn’t yell at each other as you and mommy would sometimes during dinner, it was silly. They have playdates and sleepovers, though. Like I do with Kai,”  _ His son raved, pausing a few times. Aaron froze, ignoring the fact that he had innocently asked if he and Reid were fucking. He didn’t know Uncle Ian, he certainly didn’t know that he was coming over and sleeping in his bed on cases. 

“You know what, Jack? I guess he’s more like Uncle Ian, except we don’t yell at each other in either way. And Uncle Rossi’s my best friend, you know that.” his blood boiled, fingers tingling.

_ “Okay! Mommy wants the phone back now, good night!” _ she took the phone in a rush, the sound of her walking away and whispering something to her sister echoed blurrily.

_ “Aaron,” _

“You brought a man into my bed with my son at home?” he hissed, causing Reid to shift in the embrace awkwardly. 

_ “I’m so sorry,” _

“I was going to take that transfer. I was going to save our marriage. I had a hunch with the phone calls, you know. All this time you shifted the blame onto me, saying that you didn’t want to seem like a villain because I was, just because I did the job that I loved. Haley, I loved you. I still love you, but, really- This was your fault. You were the villain the entire time. All the papers are signed, it’s too late for me to take Jack from you, now. He doesn’t deserve a mother like you, I’m sorry,” she had urgently shouted through the receiver, unable to get her point across because she had hung up. 

“I’m so sorry.” Spencer choked, letting go of Hotch with guilt. He paced for a few minutes, the younger boy staring at the sight blankly. He stopped his movement, a thought dawning upon him. 

“I know that Emily asked you to come to get me, but would you rather go to the bar instead? Drinks on me.” He smiled sympathetically at the offer, unsure about how he’d known about Emily or the dinner. 

“But the mayor asked us to dinner,”

“Which will be atrocious, trust me,” he watched the younger boy nod, following him like a lovesick puppy through the snow and to the small bar. They had gotten absolutely trashed, laughing obnoxiously over the loud music. Spencer was raving about stoichiometry, Aaron leaning in intently as if he knew anything about the topic. It was nearly midnight when they stumbled into the room, Reid stripping to his briefs with drunk enthusiasm and falling into his boss’ bed. Hotch kept his T-shirt on that rested underneath his dress shirt, leaving him in boxers and dark crew socks. He was too exhausted to even think to act on his intoxicated desire, instead, climbing into space behind his subordinate and wrapping an arm around him. 

“I’m so drunk,” Reid murmured, sprawled out delicately. 

“Me, too.”

“I want a girlfriend,” he decided, hand intertwined with his. Aaron giggled, squeezing his palm. He was so touch starved and Spencer was  _ there _ , drunk, willing, and so fucking pretty. 

“I want my wife back,”

“You had the chance.”

“And you had the chance to ask JJ on a second date,”

“So what?” he slurred, turning around to point a finger accusingly at him. The warmth in his chest was intense, his stare deep.

“You have pretty eyes,” Hotch admitted, his head throbbing from the six shots of tequila. “They shine in the sun, but sometimes they get dark and they sparkle. It’s pretty,”

“I’m straight.”

“So am I,”

“You’re gorgeous,”

“So are you,”

“I don’t want to do anything about it.” Reid decided, flipping over in the embrace to stare at the wall parallel to him. He sighed, pulling the blanket on top of them both, shielding their bodies from the chill. 

“Goodnight, Reid.” Aaron sighed, he hadn’t drunk this much since his junior year of college, deducing that the younger man had never had as much as tonight. 

“Night,” he mumbled, snoring softly after a minute or two. He squeezed the small figure in front of him and hoped. Hoped they’d wake up the next day, drink so much coffee and take dozens of pills, climb into the back of the Cadillac, then the jet, finally getting to go home to D.C. Never again to wake up in Punxsutawney. There had been something about the town, something that made Aaron Hotchner want to rip off every hair atop his head. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was  _ something. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fluff and drunk bitches  
> to clarify- the day repeated itself for the first time, and hotch is rly fucking lost . reid has a crush on hotch, he won't act on it (yet). hotch wants to fuck reid's brains out, but he won't . emily prentiss is once again a fucking lesbian, rossi is being a crack italian , I love jj, and morcia is a ride or die for me . 3 comments on this chapter for more !


	4. tres dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea what this chapter is at all ill make it up to yall in the next one I promise

Hotch’s mind turned on before the phone started to ring, registering that the feeling of a body pressed tightly against his had vanished. He moved around his fingers, realizing that they’d no longer been holding a hand. His figure rolled over in the bed, picking up the receiver without opening his eyes. 

“Hotchner,”

“I have a 7 AM wake up call for Dr. Reid. Happy Groundhog Day!” he groaned, eyes darting open. He saw Spencer in the bed across from him, the same pajamas from two days ago. He snapped out of bed, back into the corner. 

“Do not play,” he shouted, causing Spencer to shift tiredly. “Don’t you dare,” he said, tone quieter now as the radio alarm pierced through his ears. 

_ Who is that? Who is that, Emerging from his burrow? Who can see today that we won’t see until tomorrow? Is it a squirrel, is it a beaver? Kind of both but not quite either! That’s right, Woodchuck-Chuckers, it’s Groundhog Day!  _

Hotch ran over to his jacket, fumbling for a bottle of painkillers and swallowing six without water. He heard Reid fall out of the bed, the same as yesterday and the day before. He threw on his shoes at the sound, grabbing his work phone from his suit pocket before fumbling over to the counter for water. The young man watched from the floor with confusion, his brows knitted together. “Hey, did you know that the army corrected that theory? The percentage is around 40, now,” He cried out at the innocent comment, slamming the door from behind him. 

“Garcia, I need you to get me a list of  _ anyone, anyone _ even interested in medicine in this town. Check therapists, alternative mendicants, surgeons, doctors, addicts, whoever you can find in town. Ask them if they’re available today, and give me a list of addresses. And if a word comes out your mouth to anyone about this, you won’t walk into your office ever again. Got it?” 

“Oh, God, yes- yes, sir.” She whispered, tripping on her words. “It’s a little after seven right now; I just left for work. Give me a minute, I’m driving as fast as I can, please don’t fire me yet,” Hotch groaned in frustration, nearly slamming his fists onto the wall of the hallway manically. He hung up in anger, storming down to the reception desk. 

“Is there a doctor in town today?” the older woman looked up from her novel, smiling politely. 

“Good morning, handsome, and happy Groundhog Day! I’m sure that Dr. Kensington is in; she’s an excellent help with my sons if that’s what you need. She’s on 23rd and Park, dear,” He ran out without thanking the woman, the cold and parades are damned. He shut the glass door of the office from behind him loudly, panting from his disorganized running. A woman in scrubs and a lab coat sat behind the counter, whispering to a nurse quietly before he came in. Her dirty blonde hair was held up with a pencil, and she seemed young and kind, similar to JJ. 

“What kind of doctor are you?” he gasped, head pounding. 

“I’m a urologist… Caleb, be a darling and hand this man a clipboard to get checked in, thank you.” her tone was poised, sprinkled with uneasiness. “I have a neurosurgery residency at a hospital in Pittsburgh, and I’m also licensed in psychiatry. How can I help you?” A doctor of three, just like Reid. 

“I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner; I work for the behavioral analysis unit at the FBI. But, uh- I’m not here for that. I think that I’ve lost my mind,” he said, quickly scribbling his info down and handing it over to the technician at one of the desks. 

“Come in, I’ll try to help in any way I can,” she opened the door behind the window, her arm extending as an invitation into the exam room. “Some routine questions before we start- What’s your sex life like?” he froze, tensing up at the uncomfortable question. 

“Non-existent,”

“Are you asexual, or just not active with a partner?”

“My wife left a month ago, but we probably haven’t been in bed for months now,” 

“Do you get off regularly, then?”

“I guess,” he flushed, eyes to his feet. 

“That's normal. Sorry for the awkward questions, I just needed to get them out of the way.” she smiled politely, flipping through a notebook. “You get aroused normally, correct?” he hummed in response, playing with the paper-like fabric of his exam gown. “Great, you urinate without any pain?” she continued with questions until the man from before had brought out a dark manilla folder with his name on it, “your charts from the system,” she explained, reading them carefully in silence for a few minutes. 

“Do you get nightmares a lot?”

“That’s the thing, this feels like a nightmare. The same day repeated itself for the third time today. Every morning, I pick up the phone to a wake-up call for Spencer, then the radio starts playing this obnoxious song- sorry. I’m stuck; I’m just stuck,” the guy from earlier came barging in again, breaking every ounce of professionalism. He whispered something in her ear, causing her to groan. 

“I’m a bit busy here. No, I don’t care. Fine,” she snapped, reaching for her prescription booklet. “The mayor’s kid is here, try coming back tomorrow, he’s going to probably take up what few hours I have today with dumb questions. I’ll write you some prescriptions for antipsychotics and inhibitors, but that’s all I can do right now. Sorry,” stunned, he took the small stack of blue papers as he watched her walk out, his phone chirping.   
“Garcia,”

“I sent you the list; I’m a bit swamped today, so I can’t do much else for you. Happy Groundhog Day!” she sang, the phone call ending before he could have the last word. Half of his day consisted of visits to every doctor, alternative therapist, pseudoscientist, veterinarian, even priest in town; none of them able to help him, only helping themselves with the outrageous prices. 

“It’s your karma,”

“It’s just toxins,”

“It’s your bladder,”

“You have Satan within you; we must exorcise at once,”

“Would you consent to an enema?” 

“I specialize in psychosis, in pigs.”

“You must be delusional,”

He had gone to anyone he could think of with a scientific background, his head spinning as he wandered the streets. A part of him wondered if he was suffering from some sort of schizophrenic break, the other convinced that the town and his team was simply playing a completely impractical joke on  _ just him.  _ He asked a man for directions to a pharmacy when he’d got the golden advice he was looking for. “If you don’ feel right in the head, brother, just head on over to Dom’s. I drink, and drink, like an alcoholic little hamster on a wheel until I’m not feeling things. ‘S great,” he slurred, clearly buzzed himself. 

It was nearly dark when Hotch had somehow managed to remember his way back to the Inn, let alone his room, which was thankfully unlocked (he had bet it away after his 20th round of shots in a game of poker, promising a man with a large mustache covered in beer foam it was a key to the White House), his legs tiredly dragging into the bedroom. His face snapped over lazily when he heard muffled whispers from the bathroom, probably coming from Reid, the crazy kid. 

“Mrs. Hotchner- Miss Brooks, I hear you, and I am so sorry that you thought that. This has all just been a big misunderstanding. No! No, I have not! That’s entirely inappropriate to be asking me. Calm down, please,” he fumbled between pauses, Hotch’s brows knitting together at the drunken thought that the man whose pants he’d wanted to get into was on the phone with his ex-wife, practically arguing. He stripped to his boxers before throwing on a hoodie, tossing in the sheets in his bed until he thought he looked like a burrito, his head throbbing. “What the hell is wrong with that woman?” he heard Spencer shout, followed by bottles dropping to the bathroom tile. 

“You have weird hair,” Hotch whispered, watching his subordinate storm into the room in a daze. The sun was set, yet it’d been early enough; Hotch had remembered that Reid was probably getting ready for dinner by now, his hair tied into a carefree topknot and only one shoe on his feet. “Hey, hey- what are you doing?” his tone was drawn out drunkenly, his mind utterly numb.

“We can talk about this tomorrow; I can’t deal with you right now, Hotch,”

“That was Haley on the phone, so I think  _ -hic-  _ you need to deal with that now, kiddo,” he laughed loudly yet slowly as if he were in quicksand. 

“She just said that I should've had your phone. I only picked it up because it wouldn’t stop ringing. See you tomorrow,” He watched Reid swiftly throw the blackberry onto the cheap mattress, sprinting out the door. Hotch didn’t bother calling his wife, instead of bothering to vomit into the musty toilet in the bathroom. He emptied the booze from his stomach after what felt like hours, groggily shuffling back to bed; tomorrow would be a new day. People would stop being cryptic, and he and the team would be back to work at Quantico. His wishes were never this simple, but then again, Groundhog Day didn’t seem to be either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im making a oneshot au where foyet gets to reid idk i just wanted to share it with yall here I had the idea a while ago it'll be out soon. also comment if u want anymore of this story pls love yall

**Author's Note:**

> ill update this at 10 kudos and 3 comments ;)


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